


End of an Era

by Jemppu



Series: Honey Mushroom [33]
Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Art, Culmets - Freeform, Fanart, M/M, Tumblr, honey mushroom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:03:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23837227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jemppu/pseuds/Jemppu
Summary: Part of"Honey Mushroom"series of illustrated Culmets momentslisted here on tumblr.Morning after the USS Glenn recovery mission of season 1, episode 3With illustration:"At 8 AM"
Relationships: Hugh Culber/Paul Stamets
Series: Honey Mushroom [33]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1080993
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	End of an Era

**Author's Note:**

> The series gets released quite out of order, as inspiration dictates, so I urge you to check out the [series list on tumblr](https://tinyurl.com/honeyshroom) for a better picture of the whole.

## 

## End of an Era 

Paul opened his eyes to the increasing light in the room. The wake-up light had been set to coincide with the start of the engineering’s Alpha shift, but damn if he had ever cared to force himself to the Fleet’s heavily regulated schedule - he had a career long habit of following his own patterns and was still never in too much of a hurry in the mornings, if he wasn’t explicitly needed somewhere.

He turned around in the bed, fully expecting Hugh to still be laying there beside him, but was instead greeted with a sight of an empty pillow.  
  


“Morning, Mushroom”, he then heard somewhere from beyond his feet, before having the time to wonder. He lifted his head up to see Hugh peek up from the floor at the foot end of the bed, “got a good sleep?”

Paul let his head fall back on the pillow. “Ugh. You’re at it already?” he grunted in sleepy haze still, “and in the dark?”

“Well, obviously I didn’t want to risk waking you up once finally getting you in bed”, Hugh’s head disappeared behind the mattress, then rose up again, “and it’s not like one needs lights to do core”.

“No, I suppose not. How silly of me”, Paul said with a mental roll of eyes, while wiggling himself across and to the edge of the bed.

He sat there for a moment, while gathering his strength to stand up. Still, he felt surprisingly alive for having had only couple hours of sleep. And despite last night having been unusually rough.

“Hookay”, he then stood up with a gruff exhale, before letting himself get too lost in listening for the steady heaving and the enticingly rhythmic grunts from the floor.

He sauntered across the room and disappeared into the bathroom, re-appearing again after a while, wrapped up in a cardigan.

It wasn’t unusual for Paul to easily feel cold and cozy up in situations where his athletic doctor could still be quite unaffected - like he was here now, going about his morning workout topless.

The light in the room had reached it’s maximum settings by now, and could almost be mistaken for a real daylight. Paul missed that - he greatly enjoyed the Earthly sunlight, despite never having been able to bask directly in it for very long.

He stood there leaning his shoulder against the doorway, taking in the moment, watching his man do his set of push-ups now.

“You’re oggling, Mushroom”, Hugh remarked under his breath after a while, without having to even look up - he could feel the gaze on himself.

“Just appreciating”, Paul smirked playfully. Expression, which sounded through in his voice too.

Hugh sat up to kneel on the exercise mat and looked up and across the room to see the man: his hair still messy from the bed, and a slight stubble on his chin, standing there with his arms crossed over his by now all too familiar knit, that nicely matched the color of his eyes.

Goodness, how Hugh loved this scruffy, laid-back morning Paul. Not, that he didn’t fully appreciate the usual, neatly groomed man either, but this was his Paul alone - without a care in the world, before the man would put on his meticulously kept public mask and the day’s duties would harden him up again.

“Just crank up the heat, silly”, Hugh said to the man wrapping up in his well worn knit garment.

“While you’re sweating away there?” Paul responded with a disparaging little laugh. He walked over to the Replicator in the corner dining area and pressed himself a cup of tea, “I’m fine”.

It wasn’t even all about being cold either, but just wanting to feel homely too. Honey Mushroom was shunning away from Starfleet issued garments every chance he got; such a rebel in his cozy cardigans.

“Didn’t you just say you were **appreciating** seeing me work up a sweat”, Hugh snarked with a smile, going back to doing his routines.

Paul responded with a curbed laugh. Then let out a gruff grunt through his smile, as he sat down on his usual spot by the table and flipped his PADD open.

First thing he did was what he did each morning: checked the temperature and humidity levels of the mushroom garden. It was instinctive by now, and if everything checked out okay - like it did now - he didn’t even need to register doing this: his kids were fine.

As he went on to browse the ship’s announcement board, the smile still lingering on his face gradually vanished. No official response seemed to have been issued yet regarding USS Glenn’s loss.

The initial announcement of the incident too had gone public so late last evening, that most crew members not on night duty would only just now be waking up to the news.

Some of whom themselves must have had acquaintances aboard the ship. Academy buddies, friends, their own creative partners, what had you. And all of whom now no doubt found themselves reflecting back to the fact, that they themselves had been assigned to Discovery instead.

After all, the applications and screening for the expedition crew had been simultaneous - the process had started even before it had been decided to split the research between two ships.

Had Paul decided otherwise it would’ve been just one ship.

Paul opened up a new tab for a file he had created last night, and started reading through it. His thoughts on the loss of Glenn. Of Straal the man and their over a decade of research together. In painfully raw form. He felt like deleting most all of it.

Last night he had rushed to the Engineering in hopes of starting the process of storing and analyzing the recovered data.

Upon opening up first ones of the files, he had quickly found himself unable to continue on reading through the familiar tone of Justin’s notes. Their annoyingly haphazard nature - which Paul had remarked on many times over in the past - had now seemed almost endearing. He had found himself unable to 'correct’ Justin’s scripts too. It felt like erasing what little seemed to be left of the man himself now. He would need to copy and rewrite those completely.

That, and the atmosphere in the Engineering room with the night crew still present had felt rather tense to Paul - like there had been questions hanging in the air. Questions, which he felt the response to Glenn’s loss should address, regarding the mission status and the incident’s effects to Discovery’s own team’s spore drive research and development work.

Paul was too lost in his thoughts to notice Hugh observing Honey Mushroom and his increasingly fierce brows from the floor.

The doctor paused his sit-ups and sat up on the exercise mat, “so, how are you feeling? About last night. Any better?”

“Mm-hm”, Paul acknowledged the question absent mindedly midway through typing a sentence, leaving the replying to hang in the air.

He finished his thought, then shifted his gaze from the PADD over to meet Hugh’s loving eyes, unfurrowing his brows on the sight. “I’m fine”, he answered smiling, but couldn’t help the slight weariness from showing through.

“But I think I might need to address the team today”, he rested his chin in his hand leaning against the table, turning his full attention to the man on the floor.

As Hugh turned away to reach for a towel, Paul thought he caught a subtle hint of frustration wash over his man’s face. Something, which he felt he most likely wasn’t meant to see.

He thought he understood it though: Honey Mushroom was turning Dear Doctor’s attempts to discuss the matter into a work related issue. Again.

He did feel sorry for shutting the man out like this, but Paul wasn’t really the kind to easily discuss his deeper feelings - had never been. Which must have worried the more open-hearted doctor.

And although opening up to Hugh usually was the easiest he had ever felt with anyone, Paul also thought he needed to clear his thoughts to himself first. Get past the initial shock. And indeed get the practical affairs handled and out of the way. Before he could discuss the matter in any form of coherence.

If he then even felt like it anymore. He was still somewhat hoping the thing would just go away - that he could just skip past the whole bothersome mourning part.

Hugh turned back to Paul with an understanding smile - which to Paul now felt uncomfortably feigned - condescending even. Dear doctor was apparently too respectful of Paul’s space still to call him out on his seemingly matter avoiding behavior.

Damn it all. Paul needed to get past this quickly - this felt like it could be tearing a hole in the trust between them.

“Really?”, Hugh said dabbing his face, “you are voluntarily giving a speech?”

“Well, I don’t know about 'voluntarily’”, Paul replied, “feels unavoidable”.

“The Command will no doubt issue their own response to the incident, and the Fleet surely an even grander one, but those are not likely to answer the finer points the team might need to know regarding their own work”, Paul went on explaining, now too long for his own comfort even, “feels, if I don’t address this within the department myself, it might arouse some confusion with the crew.”

Hugh was just letting him ramble, wasn’t he?

“What ever the reason, I think it sounds wonderful”, Hugh beamed, taking a sip from his water bottle, then positioned himself back for the next set.

Was that sincere now? Or was it just Hugh 'doctoring’ - appeasing to what ever the doctor must’ve perceived his man’s current state of mind to be? Dammit, there shouldn’t have even been such questions between them, Paul cursed in his head. This was the exact kind of uncertainty he hated in any social interactions.

Paul stared at his man for a while, thinking he should say something, but couldn’t quite figure out what. Where to begin. Or where to end, if beginning at all. He needed to get this damn address done too. No time to pick up deep, meaningful conversation now.

The room fell near silent again as the two of them went on about their business. Hugh to his workout, Paul to his writing.

Or his attempted writing at least. He was finding it increasingly difficult to get anything down. He would struggle half a sentence, erase it and try again. Everything felt like it sounded either irrelevant, or seemed far too private to share.

And he kept catching himself glancing back at Hugh on the floor too.

His man had the habit of prancing around the apartment in half dressed states like this - the doctor had always felt fascinatingly at ease in his own skin - which Paul absolutely did not mind either. Except maybe at times like these, when he actually needed his concentration.

“Ugh”, he let out a frustrated exhale and ran his hands across his face.

“I don’t know if the address needs to be that thorough though”, Paul let out in a frustrated voice, “our teams’ researches were pretty separate after all and all the communication regarding the work was between just the two of us.”

“Most all of he crew here didn’t really even know of him or his part in the research. Other than in name.” Paul went on mumbling. Clearly trying to justify something to himself.

“Wouldn’t it be mighty unnecessary and self-serving to go on babbling about the man’s importance, when they never got to witness it first-hand?” He concluded, and turned his gaze to Hugh.

Hugh had paused his stretches somewhere during Paul’s rant and was sitting there on his mat, surprised of this sudden outburst. He then smiled: his Honey Mushroom seemed like he was starting to be ready to talk …in his own curbed, roundabout manner anyway.

“Or it could be respecful to acknowledge it?” Hugh responded from the floor, “let the crew know what the man meant for their work”.

“Right…” Paul replied, in a flat tone and went back to his writing tab. Hugh had a point of course, but damn him… Paul was reluctant to address the issue. It would mean opening up about it in public the way he cared not to. These people had no regard of Justin Straal, the person - Paul felt he would need to share something of himself to let them know of the man and his significance.

“Hell!”, Paul cursed to himself, mumbling over the frustration, “Fuck this. I can’t. Not right now - not with this short a notice… shit”.

“Honey…”, Hugh remarked from his workout to make Paul take note of his obviously increasing frustration.

Paul relented his cursing and took a deep breath.

The team would get a general, stoic acknowledgement of the incident after all. But at least from their department head.

And did most of them really need more than that, Paul thought. Those possible few among his Discovery Science and Engineering team, who knew of Straal or the Glenn crew through acquaintances could see it as a cold move, but then what. Paul hadn’t the sense of mind to think of this objectively enough yet. He found himself reverting back to sentimentalities, which he’d rather not share with the crew.

Hell, no way would he share with strangers, if he couldn’t really open up about this even to himself yet, or to this man here - now twisted up in some painfully contortionist looking position on the floor - with whom he was supposed to be able to share everything - and wanted to, eventually.

“Okay”, Paul closed his PADD in defeat, pushed it aside and stood up from the chair, “that’ll do”.

Hugh straightened up from his 'contortionist position’, “that was fast”.

“Well, yeah”, Paul said absentmindedly, patting his thighs while looking around befuddled, trying to recall what it was again he was supposed to be doing next, to get himself ready for the day.

“Haven’t got the time for more now; I’m cutting corners”, he said quickly glancing over at Hugh, and immediately found a guilt creep up on him, which he felt he needed to somehow justify.

“It’s not disrespectful”, he mumbled furrowing his brows as he went on to take the few steps to the bathroom.

“All the team really needs now are answers to their possible questions regarding the research’s future”, he continued on through the open bathroom door, “no need to burden them with some sappy personal anecdotes.”

Hugh could hear the man getting through with his morning 'make over’ in a rush. This usually involved a maddeningly precise set of maneuvers, not least of which was to get the hair parted and set right just so.

Hugh smiled to himself as he sat there observing the sounds while stretching: he was able to easily identify each little noise echoing from the bathroom and recognized which actions they corresponded to. He knew exactly how many steps there were left any given point on the routinely 'countdown’.

Final splash of water through the comb and…

“I’ll regale the stories of the 'great Straal’ and the details of his contribution and legacy some other time”, Lieutenant Stamets said stepping out of the bathroom, now dressed in his uniform pants and undershirt, the jacket draped over his arm, while finishing the look with careful final strokes of wet comb not through, but over his hair, to set straight any possible stray strands, “…if it ever comes up”.

Hugh looked at his now transformed man with a blank face for a moment longer, as if to make sure Paul was through with his rambling.

“Honey”, he then finally let a hint of a smile show in his eyes, “no-one is saying you should do anything more. Or what you are doing right now even.”

“It’s admirable you’re so adamant on addressing the matter yourself at all”, Hugh assured, “I don’t think anyone would blame you for just taking the day off and letting the Command handle the matter.”

“I love the ship you serve on”, Paul huffed, “on my ship a certain Captain would surely mind a **lot** if I as much as extended my lunch hour”.

“Besides, it’s not really an option for me anyway”, Paul grumbled while trying to figure out which way his twisted up uniform jacket went on again, “unlike Command, I have to go there to work with and face these people every day.”

Paul had just grabbed the crumbled up uniform from the gear room locker in a hurry last night. Gods, this is why he hated getting to bed disorganized!

Hugh was throwing a slightly pitying face at his Honey Mushroom. The kind he always showed, when wondering how underneath the cocksure facade, his man was such a master of finding ways to belittle himself.

“My point though”, Hugh insisted, “not all would feel they had to do anything”.

“Speaking of taking days off…”, Paul - not completely agreeing to these 'unfounded compliments’ - attempted to throw the conversation off to another direction, “how’s your own day? How are you already up after a night shift?”

The jacket finally went on.

“I’m up for duty from 1700 onward”, Hugh responded, standing up from the floor just as Paul sat down on the bed next to him to pull on his boots.

“This morning was the only time our schedules matched this week to go for a run with J-… a colleague. I’ll nap afterwards”, Hugh answered gathering up his exercise gear, clearly having realized midway through, that it was useless to mention anyone of his buddies by name to Paul; the scientist had no capacity or interest in his brain to store useless 'data’ like the names of most of his partner’s increasing number of associates aboard the ship.

They were far more numerous than Paul’s had ever been too. Certainly were now.

“Okay, I’ll try be ready for a break by, say, 1500 latest then. Would hate to miss you completely today”, Paul said zipping up his boots and standing up from the bed.

Hugh crossed his arms and stood back to observe the busy man with a hint of doubt in his eyes, “you don’t have to promise anything you can’t keep”.

“Excuse me?” Paul stopped midway through collecting his devices scattered around the room, spreading his arms to his sides as if to gesture his readiness to argue this implied 'insult’.

Hugh smiled affectionately and moved in closer to help the man with his hands full of stuff to adjust his uniform, “C'mon, I don’t blame you…”.

“But you gotta admit you have a decent track record of blowing off our scheduled 'down time’”, Hugh said, straightening Paul’s collar and observing his Lieutenant up close now, “and do you really think Lorca’s **not** going to be all over you today too, about that stuff you recovered?”

“Fair enough”, Paul answered with a roll of eyes, tilting his head slightly, away from Hugh’s hand, which was wandering alarmingly close to playing with The hair. “And you’re right, of course - he certainly will…” Paul sighed raising his eyebrows knowingly. “But I will see what I can do anyway”, he assured, pointing at Hugh with the PADD in his hand for emphasis.

“I know you try your best, Mushroom”, Hugh smiled, zipping up Paul’s jacket. He then rested his arms on Paul’s shoulders and paused to look him in the eyes lovingly, “you smell nice”.

“You too”, Paul smirked back, pulling Hugh in closer by his hips.

“Eww?”, Hugh responded laughing, trying to avoid full contact so as not to get his man’s uniform all sweaty.

“Very manly”, Paul laughed and leaned in to give Hugh a kiss.

“Okay”, Hugh mumbled into the kiss, “don’t get too excited - you need to get going, if you wish to ever be back”.

“Nooo, I take it back”, Paul moaned playfully, “I’ll take that free day you were offering”.

Hugh pushed himself back a bit and gave his man a serious look, “All kidding aside, I would gladly prescribe you a sick leave, at least for today”.

“What? Come on”, Paul huffed, irritated for the topic getting too real again, “I’m not sick, Hugh”. “I have things to do -important Starfleer business to attend to”, he then laughed it off.

“Alright, fine”, Hugh relented and spared another affectionate smile, “go lead your team, officer”.

 _“Officer”_? It was meant in jest of course, but triggered something in Paul’s mind, that made him sink back into his thoughts.

Suddenly it felt like something of an era was ending. The era of scientific power-duo Stamets-Straal was now over. There was one less soul left, who got this quirky field of studies they had dedicated their lifes to.

Straal had been the one who had dragged their research and Paul with it to this blasted organization. But with the man gone now, what would really be holding Paul here anymore? Aside the precious research of course - which he detested seeing in the hands of this current command, seemingly eager to develop it to aid the war efforts - his only personal connection to the Fleet anymore was his Dear Doctor.

He could try and pretend to be of Starfleet for his love, but even for his dear officer himself, Paul felt he could offer something so much more.

Hugh was on this ship for Paul, and Paul was here for the research. Which had been brought here because of Straal.

Could Paul let go of it now? Should he? Or should he see the research to it’s end here? So, that his 'brother’s’ death wouldn’t have been in vain? He couldn’t possibly leave his kids in this organization’s care, could he? Never.

Paul also recalled back to earlier in his relationship with Hugh, when he had first realized he had fallen for a Starfleet officer and thought to himself, if it came to it, would he ever be able or willing to live his life on a starship or what ever remote starbase the man would be stationed at, to be with him.

He now knew he absolutely would.

Even after accepting this 'Starfleet gig’, he had had his doubts about it all the way up until he had learned, that Hugh had requested a transfer to Discovery as well. Only then had it felt the right thing to do.

He did find it twisted however, that it was he for whom they were here now. Their future together was dependant on his decision - on his 'loyalty to the Fleet’. How was he the 'officer’ faced with this dilemma now?

They should, and would have their life together outside of the service still - him and Hugh. Paul would make sure of it.

The era of Culber-Stamets would just be beginning.

“Where are you, Mushroom?” Hugh’s voice pierced through Paul’s thoughts.

“Where was I?” Paul, not fully registering the doctor’s question, asked aloud, trying to remember what exactly he had been doing right then.

“I just asked”, Hugh laughed at this latest prime example of Honey Mushroom’s tendency for absentmindedness, “are you sure you’re fine?”

“Yeah, yeah”, Paul sneered this annoying notion away again with a dismissive hand wave, “I need to go be there for the crew”.

“For their questions, I mean”, Paul quickly specified and furrowed his brows seemingly bit ill at ease.

Hugh smiled sympathetically at his man’s continued insistence of not letting slightest bit of his humanity show through the stern professional facade.

Paul was at the doorway already, when he let out a sigh, turned to look back at Hugh and smiled warmly, but with a hint of remorse in his eyes, “guess I gotta go tell the kiddos too, that their dad is gone”.

Hugh let out a sudden, short sympathetic exhale and tilted his head compassionately, “but only the one”, he smiled reassuringly, “they’ll still have their favorite daddy”.

The sorrow behind Paul’s smile got quickly replaced by a slightly amused bashfulness as he turned to open the door. “I’ll make sure to get back by 1500”, he said with a hint of laughter in his voice right before stepping out.

“See you then, daddy!”, Hugh made sure Paul heard him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts on the work posted along with the illustration on [**tumblr**](https://jmalkki.tumblr.com/post/173893711554/at-8-am-the-accompanying-image-to-the-third-and).
> 
> _Likes, shares, comments and what have you, all appreciated on:_  
>  _[ **tumblr**](http://jmalkki.tumblr.com/) | [**twitter**](https://twitter.com/Jemppu) | [**instagram**](https://www.instagram.com/jeminamalkki/) | [**DeviantArt**](https://www.deviantart.com/jemppu)_


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